


Absolutes

by BlueTeaParty



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Anal Plug, Bondage, Branding, Collars, Dark!Luke, Din just trying his best to survive, Jedi Order Replaced by the Sith (Star Wars), M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Not written or posted in chronological order, Public Humiliation, Sex Toys Under Clothing, Sith Luke Skywalker, Slavery, more tags to be added later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-06
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-17 02:20:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28592412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueTeaParty/pseuds/BlueTeaParty
Summary: Order 66 was not to kill the jedi, but to capture them. Palpatine forcibly converted them to sith, beginning a new Sith Empire.The warrior tribes of Mandalore stood against them, but like so many others, they fell to the brutality and might of the new order.Now Din is just trying his best to survive.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 46
Kudos: 184





	1. Gifted

**Author's Note:**

> Please make sure you've read the tags before going into this. I'm pretty much writing whatever comes to mind, and writing to torment Din xD
> 
> Also, only self-edited, not beta-read...so yeh...

Din didn’t really care for the rebel’s struggles and pleas. He didn’t really care for much these days.

Shoving the man into the carbonite freezer, he closed his eyes as the hiss of the machine froze his prey.

All that mattered, was that he had done his master’s bidding. He was grateful in a way; his master had owned him for years now, and she preferred him as her hunting dog, tracking down her prey without question or hesitation. He had that small bit of freedom at least.

Returning to the cockpit, he punched in the coordinates for his master’s star-destroyer, _The Promise_. His fingers came up to his helmet, the small _hiss_ of the environmental controls releasing. He then loosened the cowl around his neck, dropping his cape over a spare seat; his master liked to see her collar that was permanently locked around his neck.

It had been years since it had been placed on him, and his master had never once removed it. He didn’t actually remember the collar being locked around his throat. After the desecration of his tribe, he’d come to in a medical bay, body restrained and the collar already in place.

His master had shown herself and proclaimed that he belonged to her. That he would learn how to serve her.

And he had. Just like a loyal dog, he now did her bidding without question.

‘Time to get the call over and down with’, he thought, ignoring the shame that seemed to always rest in his belly.

Kneeling in the cockpit, he called his master on the holo, and waited for her to respond. She expected him to show deference every time he had to address her. He hated it and yet...there was nothing he could do.

Mandalore had been enslaved by the Empire for years. At the end of the clone wars, the clones had turned on them, weapons aimed at her people instead of her enemies. Non-combatants had been easily enslaved, while the warrior tribes had scattered. Jedi had turned Sith, and hunted them down, ruthlessly dominating them.

His own tribe had been one of the last to be hunted down and subjugated; during the clone wars he’d been adopted as a foundling into the Mandalorian culture and he had earned his _beskar_. Years later, he had proudly fought against the Sith that had relentlessly hunted them.

They had lost.

He remembered kneeling for the first time before them, hands cuffed behind his head, bleeding all over. Others of his tribe had been forced to do the same, an entire hand of Sith had been required. The thought filled him with a sick sense of pride; they had not submitted easily. He remembered his eyes locking with Paz’s, the way the heavy gunner had averted them, as if not looking at each other could erase the shame of having their helmets removed.

He wished he’d known how handsome the other man was before this.

They had been forced to watch the stormtroopers sifting through the bodies of their dead tribesmen, removing their _beskar_. The sight had made him snarl and the Sith had given him a taste of their dark power; invisible fingers around his throat, crushing and bruising without any hope of retaliation, crushing until he passed out.

He had almost died. Sometimes, he wished he had.

The holo call connected, breaking his reverie and the image of his master appeared before him. Din bowed his head and made his report.

“Good job my pet,” his master purred. She was a togruta, her lekku long and wrapped around her shoulders. “I will be expecting you shortly. Do not delay.” Without expecting a reply, she disconnected the holocall, the cabin going dark.

Groaning, Din got off the floor. It had been a long day, and he desperately needed a nap before seeing his master again.

\---

Docking was an uncomplicated affair, one of the few perks of his ‘status.’ His master’s star destroyer was currently in orbit over Alderaan.

Swiftly, his carbonite cargo was unloaded, handed over to officers who oversaw the prisoner transfers, and Din began to make his way to his master’s quarters, helmet tucked under his arm and collar on display. Imperial officers and grunts alike stepped out of his way as he strode down the white hallways. Another perk he guessed. He was at once higher and lower than them in status.

The entrance to his master’s quarters was biolocked. Removing his glove, Din placed his hand on the scanner, and entrance was granted.

Her quarters were massive; beautiful marble and silk drapes that softened the Imperial designs. She was lounging on her chaise, idly listening to the chatter of the other Sith master before her.

“Ahsoka, please, reconsider.”

Silently moving towards the group, Din reached them and knelt beside his master, the movement well practiced after years of service, helmet placed on the floor in front of him. His collar shone, snug around his throat and permanent.

His master laughed, “Barriss, there is nothing to consider here. A public execution is the least that these rebels deserve.”

“I don’t disagree, but keeping the new prisoners as slaves, as an example...surely that would benefit the Empire more?”

The togruta’s hand came to a rest at his nape and it took all of Din’s will not to shudder.

“We already have our slaves as examples.” Her finger hooked under Din’s chin, and she forced his face to look at her. “Beautiful examples. Our hunting dogs work so hard for us.”

Her golden eyes burned into his own. She smiled, face twisting as it didn’t reach her eyes. “So very hard.” She reached behind her, rummaging at the table there, returning with a piece of fruit in her hand. “Good dogs that need to be rewarded.”

He looked at her hand; it held a rare melon, prized and extremely hard to obtain this deep in space.

Opening his mouth, he meekly accepted her gift and felt a sick perversion of pride that he had served his master well. She had trained him thoroughly.

He despised it.

\---

Din stood motionless at the back of the room, watching as the Sith celebrated…something. He wasn’t the only Mandalorian here; several of his enslaved brethren were acting as guards for the event. Their _beskar_ armour shone brightly, though no longer held their individual colours. They all wore Imperial black and red now, the mythosaur on many replaced with the Imperial Crest. Symbols of the might of the Sith Empire.

Guard duty was one of the more boring chores he had to endure, lord knows he much preferred to be hunting. Still, at least he was allowed his helmet, a small mercy. The sith lords enjoyed the perversion of culture.

Din let his eyes roam, taking in the various sith that were in the room. His master was dressed in her usual revealing garb; gossamer silk that trailed after her, barely opaque, a dark corset cinched around her waist. Like all sith there, her lightsabers were attached to her belt. Only a fool would enter a viper’s nest such as this unarmed.

He lost track of time as he stood there, barely paying attention to the movement of the dark lords. His bodily needs had been taken care of before the event, and so, he waited. Guarding a group of people that anyone would be insane to take on.

Finally, his master beckoned him over with a short gesture of her hand. Din’s heart lurched as his feet moved towards her without thinking, and moving through the crowd, he shortly found himself in front of her.

She was smiling, talking to another Sith, a young man. He barely looked a day off twenty.

He watched as she gestured again, and he sunk gracefully to his knees, eyes focused on their boots.

“I’m so proud of you Luke.” His master was saying. “Or should I be calling you Darth Sohn now?”

The man, Luke, laughed; such a warm sound for a Sith. Din tried his best not to shudder.

“Only if you want me calling you Darth Nyx.”

His master laughed with him. He had only heard of Luke, though never seen him. The son of Darth Vader, once Anakin Sywalker.

The original jedi to turn against the former republic.

He felt sick.

Ahsoka continued, “I have a present to celebrate the occasion. Helmet off my dear.”

Din hands numbly went to the attachments under his helmet, still hating that he had to bare his face to these people. A shot _hiss_ and his face was revealed; he only just managed to suppress his flinch when his master cupped his face, angling it up and attaching a light chain to his collar. Now he was perplexed. She hadn’t leashed him in some time, so why now?

Wait. Present.

Oh.

 _Oh no._  
Without ceremony, his master placed his leash in Luke’s hands.

“I know you’ve been eyeing him off for quite some time now,” she was saying. Din’s mind was blank; it was if he was looking at it happen from a holocall. “So, he is my gift to you. Treat him as you will. As you know, he is well-trained and…untouched.”

Luke’s hand tightened around the leash, pulling it up until it was taut, and Din had to rise off his knees slightly to avoid choking. He kept his hands perfectly still by his side.

“You have my thanks,” Luke grinned. “I can’t wait to see how well he performs.”

Ahsoka cupped his face, turning him towards her. She smiled. “Do not disappoint me pet.”

Din drew in a sharp breath, resisting the urge to bolt. He didn’t reply, she didn’t expect it.

“Though I do admit, once I broke him in, he has rarely done so. He will make a fine dog for you.”

“You honour me.”

“The honour is mine Luke. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

She turned and left without ceremony. Din felt cold, panic threatening to creep in. He knew so little about Luke, had only had Ahsoka for a master since he was enslaved.

Luke tugged on the chain slightly, and Din looked up, meeting the eyes of his new master. They burned as brightly as his former owner, and intense, like they could see through him and out. Perhaps they could?

“I can sense your unrest,” Luke murmured. “You pretend you’re broken in but I can sense what lies under the surface.”

Din swallowed harshly, feeling his collar acutely, tight against his throat. His heart beat faster, panic rising from his belly. He felt cold, and so alone.

“That’s alright. I’ll draw it out of you. Break you in proper for your new service.”

Even though the room was loud, it was like it was muffled for Din. Vaguely he recognised that he was going into shock, but still, he hoped to hide it from his new master. It was a vain hope.

“Mmmmm, such beautiful torment.” Luke smiled. “And it belongs to me. You will enjoy serving me I think. I know I look forward to breaking you.”

With that, Luke turned his attention elsewhere, another sith coming to talk and congratulate him. Din shuddered, his hands gripping his helmet in an attempt to calm himself. He was still kneeling on the floor, his master hadn’t given any indication of moving and held his leash tight.

Oh manda...what was going to happen to him?


	2. Processing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After being captured in the field, Din is 'processed' by Imperial officials.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: branding and non-consensual drug use.
> 
> I did want to write Luke with Din immediately, but this flashback to when Din was originally captured demanded to be written xD

It was disorientating, waking up when one cannot move properly. Din’s head was pounding but at least he was lying down. He tried opening his eyes; it took far more effort than he was used to and when he managed to open them, closed them immediately against the bright light that assaulted his senses.

“Careful with that one, he’s been claimed by Darth Nyx.”

_Who was that?_

He felt empty and drained. Waking up was an effort, his entire body ached something fierce and his head felt stuffed with sand.

“I’d almost feel sorry for him if he wasn’t a Mandalorian. Darth Nyx is brutal.”

Din tried to move his arms and grunted as they refused to obey his commands. Tugging slightly, he tested his restraints. His arms were secured by his sides and his ankles were similar. Something was across his chest…His eyes snapped open as the memories came flooding back. _Where the fuck was his helmet?_

Two doctors standing in front of him, their uniforms marking them as imperial, effectively ignoring him as they consulted their data pad. He took in the restraints; it was a fucking interrogation chair.

“Right, standard restrictions on the civilians.”

The distinctive accent made him shiver. Fucking imps!

“Only two Mandalorians in this lot sir.”

_Fuck, who else was here with him?_

“Better than last time. Make sure their armour is correctly catalogued, our lords were very specific about that. Physical and chemical restraints engaged. Right put the mandos in together and the rest can go in the massive cargo.”

Booted feet clunked along the floor, walking towards him; Din quickly closed his eyes again. He could feel them checking the restraints and made sure they stayed still. When he was sure they were in range, an inhuman growl escaped him, snapping forward and colliding against the face of the doctor in front of him.

“Ah, fucking mando!”

Pain abruptly screamed throughout his body, leaving him breathless. He couldn’t even breathe, let alone scream. Abruptly as it began, the pain stopped, leaving him gasping for air.

“Yeh, didn’t notice that collar of yours, did you? You’re lucky one of the Sith lords has already claimed you.”

 _Collar? What fucking collar?_ Din swallowed harshly, finally noticing the constriction around his neck fully. He had assumed it was merely part of the chair, but if it was a control collar…he was fucked.

His imperial captor sneered, the restraints easily holding him in place. “No visible marks of punishment allowed.”

Din struggled underneath the bonds but stilled as a gloved hand reached down and fisted into his hair.

“You will learn submission,” the doctor intoned. He pressed buttons on the table and it hissed and began to move with the doctor, following him out of the room. “You are now property of the Sith Empire.”

Din struggled, not just against the restraints binding his body, but the very concept. He was no-one’s fucking property! His legs kicked uselessly against the lower bonds, while his head pounded against his skull.

For the moment though, his struggles proved futile. The bindings were strict, yet Din doubted they would cause him any physical damage. It was concerning. These were bindings designed for long-term wear. The assholes wouldn’t need to release him, and that would decrease his chances for escape. Gritting his teeth, Din did his best to observe where he was but, in typical imperial design, the corridor was white and featureless.

Din forced himself to relax, breathing deep to negate the panic welling up inside him. An opportunity would come, and then he could make his move. If they wanted him fit to serve, they’d have to provide medical attention at the very least.

The collar was what was more worrying. Even if he could escape the chair, the collar most likely had a mechanism to deter escape, probably some sort of tracking device too. It had already been shown to have the shock system installed.

Finally, they came to an empty cell, and Din found himself deposited inside.

“This will keep you quiet.”

Without fanfare, a needle was jammed into Din’s neck, and he grunted from the sting. Almost immediately, his muscles relaxed against his will, and he found his eyes getting heavy.

Behind the doctor, another interrogation chair was led into the room. Din’s head lolled to the side and he squinted through the drug-haze to make out who it was.

Paz!

Just had been done to him, the heavy gunner was deposited inside the cell and the door locked behind him. Forcing himself up as far as he could, Din took stock in the other’s condition. Paz was also locked into an interrogation chair, and from what he could make out, his neck was adorned with a matching restraint.

“Paz?” he whispered, hating how weak his voice sounded.

Nothing. The other mandalorian was out cold still.

Looking over at the lieutenant made him cringe. He was a good man, he didn’t deserve this fate. None of them did. . Their captors seemed unconcerned with the possibility of escape, and from what Din knew about these chairs, they were probably right.

Closing his eyes, Din surrendered to the ache and stress of his head. He’d deal with it all later.

\---

He awoke to a needle in his arm.

Din tensed for a moment, then relaxed as he felt a calm like no other wash over him. Relaxing in his restraints, he looked hazily over at Viszla, as the same treatment was repeated on him.

Their eyes were cloudy, and their movements were sluggish as the secure bondage of the interrogation chair was released. He frowned as his arms were freed, wondering what he should do with them. New cuffs were locked onto his wrists, but they seemed…comfortable, metal on the outside with the inside padded. He just looked stupidly on as his arms were restrained around his back, and Din relaxed; there did not seem to be any reason to panic.

Finally a chain was joined to their respective collars, left to dangle in front of them.

“Open wide.” The imp had a gag in front of his mouth and Din frowned, difficulty processing the command. Finally, he worked it out and opened his mouth, allowing the doctor to insert it between his teeth. It was more like a bit, a long rod that was held there by straps. The interesting part was the flange though, it held his tongue down and Din shook his head trying to dislodge it. He grunted his displeasure and the imp smiled.

“Don’t stress, your new master will remove it once your branding is complete. But until then, you just have to smile prettily.”

Din stood ready as the imps finalised their guard. The haze blanketed his mind in a calm fog and once used to the bit, they stood quietly. He hadn't been told to go anywhere and so he stood still.

Then a gentle tug on Din’s collar moved him forward and he blindly followed the leash as he was pulled through the brig.

The walk was a blur. All he could really focus on was following the tug at his neck and putting one foot in front of the other. Time had no meaning but nevertheless, they reached their destination.

With no thought of struggling, he merely grunted as they tugged him over to a bench, carelessly throwing him facedown and strapping him down. A restraint was locked over his head, and his back and arms, keeping him in place. His hands uselessly tugged against the wrist bindings behind his back and his legs twitched against their restraints that pinned them down.

Through his calm haze, he could see the imps surrounding him laughing as he weakly fought against his shackles. A doctor, female this time, stood beside the bed. She fiddled with some equipment, and then turned to face him, holding something in front of his face.

Even in his drug-haze, his eyes widened as he recognised the cylindrical device she held; a branding rod. The end glowed red-hot, the shape of the imperial cog burning so brightly it hurt his eyes.

“Ready for the rest of your life, _mando_?” It was said with a sneer, the imp looked like she was greatly enjoying this. Without waiting for a reply, the doctor stepped forward and without hesitation, pressed a branding device to his back.

For a brief moment Din felt nothing.

Then he knew only pain. Bright. Searing. Hot. It broke through the haze of the drug. His skin was burning, what felt like hot metal pressed deep into his flesh, and utterly unyielding.

He screamed around the gag. The pain felt like forever, that there would be no end. It was torture, plain and simple. He endured it, though he had no choice, feeling faint and almost floating out of body. Distantly, he knew he was going into shock.

In reality, the device was only held to his skin for a few moments.

Din heaved, sagging against his restraints. The smell of his cooked flesh made him feel nauseous and he knew without a doubt that the mark was permanent. They had marked him like one would an animal, a piece of property.

He gagged against the bit, throat and stomach rebelling against him. There was nothing to expel though, his stomach an empty pit.

Unable to breathe, Din succumbed to darkness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you so much for all the kind comments <3
> 
> If you have any ideas of what Luke should do to Din, feel free to poke me with them xD


	3. Humiliation - Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A typical day as a slave of Darth Sohn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 1 of 3.
> 
> Set a few months into Din's time as Luke's slave.
> 
> Tags have been updated.

He hadn’t been out to the stars in months. His new master was strict, controlling in a way that Darth Nyx had never been. The…training…he had been subjected to. The things he had been forced to do to survive.

It was humiliating. Debasing in a way he had never dreamed possible.

Still, he endured.

Today, Din found himself on guard duty. He had stood most of the day behind his master, in the Imperial Sith Senate. It was a cruel parody of the Galactic Senate must have been, though he had been so young at the end of the Clone Wars.

Darth Sohn had him wearing his full _beskar_ , a symbol of his personal power. Only a Sith could own such a warrior. He knew that it was basically showing the might of the Sith Empire, their utter control and dominance, but it maddeningly boring.

He had no doubt his master knew that, and probably devised this form of torture just because it amused him in some capacity.

This morning his master had ordered him to present himself for inspection, which was not unusual. He was naked as always in his master’s chambers and had assumed the position on his hands and knees in front of Luke.

“I have a little present to help you remember I own you.”

Din had felt a ripple of fear; whenever Luke mentioned presents, it never boded well.

Smirking heartily, the Sith showed him the new toy he had acquired, “A nice plug for you, keep you company deep inside, while I get my work done. In my opinion, all slaves need their hole plugged up tightly and stretched.” Luke laughed suddenly, “Certainly makes you more docile.”

Not for the last time, Din cursed the collar around his neck. Still, he obeyed; legs sliding apart, revealing his hole to his master’s eyes.

Din tensed at lubed fingers that circled his asshole, still wary of the contact even after months of enslavement. He flushed; one hand he didn’t think he’d ever get used to this, though on the other, he desperately hoped he never did get used to it. Used to the degrading bondage and scenarios his sith master dreamed up. Better to be continually humiliated than accepting his degradation.

His legs slid apart, revealing his hole to his master’s eyes. Din winced as Luke spread lubricant around his opening, a small mercy. He teased him, massaging the area and he grunted, trying his best not to speak. Two fingers pushed in with little resistance, a testament to how often Luke used him in this manner. They left soon enough, and something large pressed against his entrance, artificial and cold. Din grunted slightly as it spread his ass slightly wider than the fingers, then settled inside of him, his ass hugging the slimmer, though still thick, stem tight.

“Ah, if only I could make this a permanent part of you.”

Din was horrified. Could he really do something like that?

“Put your full armour on.”

_What? Like…this?_

He knew not to disobey though, and he held back his misgivings. His master had probably already sensed his confusion anyway.

Going through the motions of putting his undergarments on, Din couldn’t help but grimace. Luke was probably intending on keeping the plug inside of him for most of the day. Once his flightsuit and desecrated _beskar_ were on, the plug wouldn’t be going anywhere. It had felt weird to move with it inside of him, but it was relatively small, and Din knew his body would adjust soon.

Luke watched nonchalantly, then nodded when he was fully suited.

“Go get your helmet.”

Din nodded, a small part of him relieved. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to his helmet being off for such long periods of time. At least his master hadn’t disposed of his armour even when he’d made his intentions of changing Din’s use clear.

A fucking bed slave.

Still, Din mused as he walked to retrieve his _buy'ce_ , at least he wasn’t just kept chained to the bed. Luke insisted that his slave maintained his physique, and so he trained several days through the week. He looked forward to these sessions; he wasn’t expected to directly service his master and was always directed to bath afterwards.

His master disliked the sweat on his bedsheets.

Placing his _buy’ce_ on his head, Din turned, waiting for further instruction.

“Good boy,” Luke smiled. It never reached his eyes. “I will be attending the senate today. You will be on guard duty. I expect you to be alert at all times.”

“Yes master.”

Luke had nodded, and then they had left the chambers. Din remembered feeling grateful that Luke had not deemed it necessary to leash him today. He wanted his slave to pretend to be a guard, a slightly less humiliating role than sitting at his master’s feet.

The walk to the senate chambers had been interesting, walking past Imperial personnel while plugged. Thankfully, due to the small size, he had been able to mostly ignore its presence, his gait very close to normal. Anyone who observed differently would assume injury.

He had already lost track of the time that he had spent, standing behind Luke in his booth. There were other slaves there, all in different roles. For once, he was the only Mandalorian present, or at least the only one dressed in his armour.

Even though his _beskar_ displayed Imperial colours, Din still felt a sense of security while wearing it. He vaguely wondered if that was the purpose of the plug inside of him. A small piece of his master. Luke had been right.

Vaguely, Din turned his attention briefly to the discussion at hand…  
_“We must deal with these Jedi remnants…”_

_“Deal with them? They pose little threat.”_

_“Do not be hasty to let your arrogance get the better of you…”_

_“Sith power is absolute. If there is trouble on your sovereignty, then you must deal with it. Brutally.”_

…it mattered little to him. He swallowed, the collar at his neck reminding him of its presence. He didn’t really know who these Jedi were, but they’d fall just like his people had.

Din gasped softly, his body jolting slightly. The plug inside of him had…moved? No…it seemed bigger, but how…?

He looked towards his master, studying him. Yes…his master had been behind it; the small, amused smirk on his face had nothing to do with the current topic of discussion.

Fuck. It seemed like Luke had grown bored of the other Sith and now sought to torment him.

Gritting his teeth in preparation, Din planted his feet and began breathing exercises. He could take whatever his master was planning. It wasn’t like Luke could interrupt the Senate with his shenanigans. No Sith wanted to face Darth Vader, not even his son.

It wasn’t really a comfort.

_“Do you have anything to add, Darth Sohn?”_

Din felt absurdly grateful that it was his master’s turn; surely nothing more would happen while all eyes were on their booth?

The plug shifted again, and this time, Din bit his lip to keep from crying out as it expanded within him. He watched as Luke addressed the other Sith, not really caring about what his master was saying. His body trembled as Din fought to stand still, when all he wanted to do was curl up on the ground.

He couldn’t stop the way his body jolted as the plug expanded again. Logically, Din knew that the other Sith were most likely focussed on his master, but it felt like all eyes were on him. The plug now pressed against his prostate, the pressure against his insides was more than what he had been prepared for this morning. Din couldn’t stop the whimper that escaped him; luckily it was soft enough that he was pretty sure it went unnoticed.

Widening his stance, Din tried his best to focus on breathing but that Sith-cursed _plug_. It widened again inside of him, this time stretching his rim as well as insides and Din had to grip the handrail beside him to keep from falling over.

It felt as if all eyes were on him.

His master was speaking like nothing was happening. Din whimpered softly. At least his helmet hid his shame. He couldn’t stop himself panting, just trying to breathe through the absolute pressure that was now inside of him.

The Mandalorian didn’t even bother trying to pretend he was listening anymore. He just had to breathe. If he didn’t move, it wouldn’t dig into his prostate and hopefully his dick would continue to remain flaccid

The next inflation had tears welling in his eyes. His ass is now spread wide around the plug, and his lower back is beginning to ache because of the intrusion. The plug is now steadily pressing against his prostate and Din can’t keep his entire body from shaking. It’s taking literally all of his willpower to keep standing and to not just fall to his knees in front of the senate.

He doesn’t know if he could survive the punishment his master would give him for that.

Din is jolted out of his misery as Luke stands in front of him. Just how much time had passed? Looking around tells him that they’re one of the few remaining. Was his master going to do something here, or wait for later?

“Go back to my chambers pet.”

Din wanted to sag in relief, but waited; the instructions were not complete.

“You are to kneel in your usual spot and then wait. Do nothing else.”

“Yes master.”

Luke smiled, and then patted his ass, unerringly jolting the plug. Din’s entire body screamed as it took everything he had not to collapse right then and there.

Instead, he turned and hobbled out of the room. The plug was so large inside of him, he didn’t want to move. Instead, he forced himself to walk as slowly as he dared. His gait was off, unable to close his legs properly.

This time, he just knew that the Imperials could tell something was up. They moved out of his way as usual, though some definitely smirked at him, their eyes following the line of his body as he moved.

Luke had given him to them as a reward more than once.

At least no one would touch him without his master’s permission. Not if they wanted a fate worse than his.

Several times Din had to stop to catch his breath. No one stopped. No one gave him more than a glance. He was alone.

Din kept walking.

Finally, he arrived at his master’s chambers. He shouldn’t feel such relief at having finally made it...the day was still so young.

The door opened when he neared, the locking mechanism geared to his collar and Din forced himself to the small mat where Luke expected him to kneel.

It wasn’t graceful and Din finally let himself collapse on his hands and knees. He moaned then gritted his teeth as the plug shifted within him, almost painful this time. Wanting nothing more than to finally get the Sith-cursed thing out of him, he forced himself to settle, breathing through the obscene pressure inside of him.

Not like he had any way to deflate it without his master here to remove it.

Pressing his helmeted head to the floor, he waited.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank-you so much for your kind comments <3 I'm really happy people are interested in this xD
> 
> I even have plot now! xD Goddamn PLOT in my SMUT

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I have a loose idea of what I want for future chapters. Timeline might skip around, as I want to explore Din waking up as a slave etc.


End file.
